Death
by fantastic.heather
Summary: You've been an observer for the most part when characters die in Death Note. But now you can get into their minds, see what they're thinking as they breathe their last breath, live with them as they remember their lost memories. More coming if interested.
1. L

_**WARNING**_**: IF YOU HAVE NOT YET FINISHED ****DEATH NOTE****, THEN I WOULDN'T BE READING ANY ****DEATH NOTE ****FANFICTIONS FOR THERE ARE PROBABLY SPOILERS. ESPECIALLY IN THIS ONE.**

**If you have finished ****Death Note****, then you can carry on. I hope you enjoy; I made this one for you. :D**

* * *

Death, shadows, darkness.

_If only I had known this was coming. If only…_

But L _had _known this was coming. He knew it since the first time he saw Light, the first time he introduced himself. There was a flicker in Light's eyes; he had panicked for a moment, and then it was gone. But L had seen it. And he had also seen the way he composed himself so quickly and moved on, greeting L like he was greeting someone he was very fond of.

_If only I had found evidence, if only…_

That's all L could do. He could only think "if only" thoughts, even though there was no way to carry out those "if only"'s. He would die today, and that would be it. Light would win. Lwould move onto whatever was coming next for him (Heaven, limbo, floating around the world forever as a ghost) and Light would win. Light would win.

_Your eyes are full of sin…_

Light was staring down at him, calling out his name, shaking him. But Lcouldn't move. And somewhere, hidden beneath the false façade of fright Light was putting on for the rest of the people in the room, somewhere, L saw what was really going on in Light's eyes.

Humor. Light's lying eyes were dancing.

As L faded away, he heard the first few notes of Light's victory chuckle, and he was gone.

* * *

He was a little boy again.

He was dancing around his mother's garden, calling out to her, "Mommy, don't these look pretty?" and watching his mother nod in approval. He loved to work with his mother in the garden. But their days together seemed to be fading fast. His mother wouldn't let him see, oh no, she would never let him see the pain beneath the cheery mask, but L could feel it, sometimes. When they were laying in bed and she was reading him a story and she would suddenly stop and hiss; oh yes, then he could feel her pain.

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

Here she was again, doubled over, panting in a bundle of daisies she had planted just for L; his favorite flower. She slowly pulled her gardening gloves off her hands and waved off the spell with a flick of her right hand.

"Oh, it's fine baby. Nothing to worry about. Momma's fine."

_Momma's fine-_

_-Nothing to worry about._

Then why did it feel like he needed to worry?

"Mommy, I can call someone if you-"

"No!" her yell was so loud that it made L drop the flower he was holding in shock. His little frame started shaking, and she was suddenly on her knees, holding her arms out to him. As he clumsily made his way over to her, she wrapped his arms around him and cooed, "My baby, oh my baby. My little genius."

And that was all he could remember.

* * *

Now he was sixteen.

L had grown up. His mother had passed away. He still remembered her, he could still _smell _her. But he didn't think about her, nu-uh. Not if he could help it. Thinking of her hurt too much; the wound was raw and every time he felt a thought coming on, it pulsed with life. He didn't want that happening.

_Momma's fine_.

But she hadn't been fine. No, she had been very sick. If only L had known, he could have done something about it, he could have helped her…

_Nothing to worry about_.

L was sixteen, and he was going to his prom for the first time. Sticking his hands in his suit pockets and turning in the mirror, he took a good look at himself. From his shaggy black hair that he had taken to growing long after his mother died to his large black eyes that looked haunted, he looked like a creature of the undead. A vampire. But he didn't mind this look too much; it was just him. Nothing was going to change that.

He had a date, yes, but he had a feeling that she was only interested as him in the friends type of way. And he didn't mind that at all. He had no interest in girls, at the moment. Sure, they were pretty, but his mind was on growing up and becoming that World's Greatest Detective that his mother had always prided herself on telling people he would become.

_My boy will be famous one day. He will solve all the hardest cases when all the other detectives give up_. His mother only figured he would be a great detective because of the way he solved crimes around the neighborhood. He was like a mini version of a cop. If a pet went missing, L could find out where it was in less than a day, just from what kind of food it ate. L could do anything.

_Famous one day._

_Momma's fine._

L pushed his hair away from his face as the doorbell rang. He was nervous, but he didn't want to admit this to anybody. He walked over to the door and pulled it open, and little Suzie Marten stood there in her pretty ruby dress, her blond hair tied up in a nice bun, and all his worries washed away into oblivion.

_Nothing to worry about._

"Hi there," Suzie said then, grinning. "You look really nice."

L couldn't help but smiling at this compliment. And then he remembered his manners. "You look beautiful, Suzie, you really do. Oh, here, I got you something."

It wasn't much, but it was something he could afford. He didn't have much money, between school and working two jobs, but he didn't need much. He was living in the Wammy House with his uncle, Watari, and the arrangement was working out quite nice. He didn't have to pay for rent or utilities, just food and clothes for himself.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she breathed. L grinned to himself as he slipped the daisy he glued to a bracelet on her wrist. The white of the daisy and the ruby of her dress went well together. L gave himself a moment to feel good about this choice, to feel good about Suzie liking the homemade corsage.

Suzie reached over and kissed L on the cheek. "I couldn't have asked for anything better," she told him, as she slipped her hand in his and they went to the prom.

* * *

Now L was nineteen, and he was meeting the boy called Nate for the first time.

He was living at the Wammy House, too. Unfortunately, they would not get to spend much time together, because L was just about to leave it. He was done. He had other things to do, and he had to get them done.

_My son will be the World's Greatest Detective! _His mother's words formed all around him, and he knew that he was going to fulfill his mother's wishes for him.

_Mommy, don't these look pretty_?

He wished he could be that little boy again. But as he stared in front of him, holding the fork up with just two of his fingers and pushing a strawberry around in his mouth, he knew he could not. And he knew that he shouldn't wish for something that could never happen; if he just kept his eyes on the prize, maybe he would get that prize someday.

But if he kept his head in the clouds, he would never get back down.

And now Watari was knocking on his door and calling, "L, I have someone that wants to meet you very badly."

By now, L was hardly famous, but he was known around these parts for solving local crime things. So he was very curious as to who would want to meet him.

When he opened the door he looked at Watari holding the little boy with the white hair to his side. L's mouth almost dropped open, but he had better manners than that; instead, he got down on one knee and took a good look at the boy.

"You're very nervous to be here today. I see you've been biting your lip a lot. And let's see those fingernails. Ah, yes, they've been bitten too. That's a bad habit, you know." L glanced over this little boy with the white hair. His observations didn't seem to phase him.

"And _you _haven't been getting much sleep lately. And your face looks flushed; you've been drinking a lot of water. And your lips are tainted a little bit red, so I think you've been eating strawberries," the little boy answered.

L was faintly amused, but anyone could have made these observations. But then he reminded himself that it was a little boy who said this (how old was he? Nine? Around the same age he was when his mother passed away) and then he was shocked.

"Good job, little man," he said, and reached out to hand him a strawberry that was laying on the plate next to him, out of the eyesight of the boy. "Have a berry."

"Thank you." The boy ate the strawberry greedily.

"His name is Nate, but he wants you to rename him. He's starting a new life at the Wammy House, and to have a clean slate, you need a clean name."

So L had named him Near, because after giving it much thought, the boy looked like a Near. Of course, this is what L told Watari and Near. He wouldn't tell them the real reason.

After spending much time with the boy Near, L had decided something. _If something were to happen to me, like-_

Mother.

_-then I need someone to carry on my work. To create success even after I'm gone._

So L had talked to Near about being his successor, and he seemed to like that idea.

And then L met Mihael, and he noticed very strange things about this boy, too.

He also noticed how both well and bad the two boys (Near and Mello, he deemed them) worked together. Mello was dramatic and took to following his emotions. Near was more drawn back, and liked to analyze things first; which, also, could be a problem. He lacked initiative.

L was nineteen, and he was talking to Near and Mello about what would happen if he were to die anytime soon.

It was early, but it was never too early to be careful.

* * *

Now L was twenty four, and taking on the most interesting case he'd ever taken on before.

A serial killer, killing criminals that appeared on the news. _Kira_. That's what people were calling them. And L believed that naming the evil was to make the evil real. And that's what people had done. Named him.

_Kira. _The Japanese word for _killer_.

L was smart. L thought ahead. But if he had thought ahead a year or so…no, he couldn't do anything to prevent what his fate was.

And the L was meeting Light, and nothing in the world could live up to the way L felt at that moment. As if fate was shifting around. As if L could finally taste his end. _Is this what death is like? Do you know this far ahead of time? Did Momma know_?

_Nothing to worry about._

_I'm fine._

He couldn't possibly know that far ahead of time, but still, L had this odd feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watch Light's eyes flash at him. That one little moment of panic was all he needed.

Five percent. Twenty percent. It could be any number, but in the back of his mind, L was always mostly ninety percent sure that Light was this killer they called _Kira_. He just had no evidence. Light was good. He was careful, just like L. He could pretend to be innocent even when the world around him knew he was guilty.

But the world didn't know he was guilty. Only L did.

_If anything were to happen to me, little Near and Mello, you will take my place… _

Where were they now, those little boys? So full of innocence and life. Who was L to take this away from them by making them take his place in death? Who was he to put this pain he was feeling on them?

This pain. This death.

L had known from the start it would not end well, but he did not show it. Even if his fate was set in stone, he would make sure that Light's was, too. He would make sure to bring him down.

* * *

Now L was twenty five, and he was dying.

He didn't want to die. For a moment, he thought of his mother, oh his mother; did she want to die, did she feel it was coming soon, did she fight back at all, did she-

_Momma's fine._

-feel like she should have the right to live, just like L now did?

L stared up at Light's eyes, so full of sin, so full of victory. And with everything he could muster, with all his strength, right after the memories flooded through him, he thought one last thought:

_Kira. _

* * *

**Actually, believe it or not, this was fun to make. **

**I was thinking I'd do this same thing with the rest of the characters that died in Death Note. So, for instance: Mello, Matt, Soichiro Yagami, Kiyomi Takada, Watari and even Light!**

_**Tell me what you think about this, and I'll see about continuing. **__**  
**_


	2. Soichiro

_Oh, thank God…thank the Heaves above…thank anybody who is listening…_

Soichiro Yagami was thanking whoever was good enough to listen, because his son was not Kira.

No matter how many times L had suspected him, no matter how many times he, himself, had suspected Light, there was proof: Light was not Kira. And now Soichiro could rest in peace because he knew this.

_My Light…I am sorry I ever suspected you. I'm sorry I was suspicious._

Goodness knows Light was smart enough to be Kira. But the fact that Soichiro could see Light's life span (the Death God had told him that you could not see the life span of a human who owned a Death Note) was proof enough that Light was innocent. He was safe.

_My boy…_

You are not Kira.

* * *

Soichiro Yagami was watching his wife birth his first born.

It was definitely something to watch. It was hard, though, to watch someone you love go through so much pain. But both him and his wife were smiling the whole time; they knew this was a good thing, that this baby son of theirs was going to change the world. And they were ready to accept this newcomer into their lives; ready to let him make it happier.

His wife screamed again and the doctor yelled, "Push!" and there came the baby boy they were waiting on for nine months. Soichiro turned to his wife and took her hand. She was sweating a waterfall.

"Next kid you birth," his wife said sardonically, and Soichiro couldn't help but laughing at her humor. Even in a time like this, she could put a smile on his face.

"A baby boy," the doctor confirmed. "Would you like to snip the cord?"

Soichiro was afraid that he would mess something up, but he did want to do that for his son and his wife. So he hobbled forward and took the scissors the doctor offered (_shouldn't they have something better than this rusty thing?_) and cut the umbilical cord connecting his two lives together.

"A baby boy," his wife repeated.

"The light of our world," Soichiro announced proudly.

"Light," his wife whispered, her eyes glossy. She looked tired. "Light."

And then she slumped back and fell asleep.

* * *

Light was wonderful.

He could do anything. Normally, three year olds weren't as smart as Light was. But here they were, Light and his mother and father, watching Light put together the 500 piece puzzle they had gotten him for Christmas. Light seemed to like putting things together (that is, after he demolished them apart). He seemed to like remaking things to fit his needs.

"Mommy, Daddy wook- itz dun!"

Light pointed to his puzzle proudly, his face full of accomplishment. His mother and father cheered and ran to him, picking him up and nuzzling him into their bodies. Soichiro looked up at his wife and saw her eyes full of tears; why was she crying? But then Soichiro felt it too, and he sobbed for joy- their baby was a genius. That was very clear.

_He's going to grow up to be wonderful, _he thought in his head as Light got down from them and stomped on the puzzle, making the pieces scatter all over the place. As he ruined everything he worked hard on, he was grinning.

* * *

Soichiro was watching Light graduate from kindergarten.

His wife sat beside him, holding the video camera up, pointed at Light's direction. Soichiro held the roses that they had gotten Light as a present, as well as their passports. Light was too smart for America (even if America has schools for the accelerated) so Soichiro and his wife found a different plan- they would move to Japan. Soichiro knew Light would be very happy about this.

Now Light was walking toward the microphone, his eyes sparkling with delight. If it's one thing Light liked to do the most, it was controlling a room. When he was at a microphone in front of lots of people, he was the most comfortable.

"Hello Mommies and Daddies," he announced proudly, and Soichiro heard a chuckle erupt from the audience, including some people who said hello back. "I'm Light Yagami, and I'm here today on behalf of the graduating kindergarten class."

Soichiro heard some parents chatter about how well this little boy talked. But he was used to it by now. Light was on a whole different level. He could figure out things and see things that others couldn't, especially at his age. He was best at strategy games, and he liked being the center of attention. Soichiro had dreams of his son becoming a famous scientist or something. Maybe follow him in his detective dream.

"We would firstly like to thank everyone for coming and helping us progress. So thank you, parents. Next I would like to address the kids who get special awards for the things they did well in this year, and the kids who progressed the most…"

Of course, Light got many awards. He got the _Color in the Lines _award, and the _Sharing _award, and the _ABC's _award. To Soichiro, all of this seemed trivial. Light was far beyond this point in his learning. He knew the ABC's already, and sharing was no big deal, even though he didn't have siblings. Light liked pleasing people. After it was all done, Light ran to the parents, proudly holding out his awards. Soichiro laughed and smiled for Light, but on the inside, he was bugged by something that had been on the back of his mind for a while now.

_If Light keeps progressing, when will he stop_?

* * *

Now Soichiro was watching his wife, son, and daughter play in the sandbox.

Light was too old for such activities- he was ten, now- but that didn't matter. He loved his little sister with a passion. Light said he loved the way she was so "full of innocence." Soichiro liked this quote, and kept it in his mind.

"Hey Dad, look- a bunny!"

Light pointed toward the bunny running across their yard. It stopped at the vegetable garden that his wife had been playing with for the last few months. Light got up slowly, with a rock in his hand, a severe look in his face.

"Light Yagami, what are you doing?" Soichiro asked, his eyebrows knitted together. Light didn't turn back to see his father's expression, however; he kept staring at the rabbit as if it was his prey, as if he was going to attack it.

"The bunny is eating our carrots. The justified thing to do would be kill it, right? That's what you're teaching me now…justice. If the bunny is eating our carrots up, I should punish it. That's justice."

"No, Light, no…" Soichiro was visibly shaken. He curled his finger's around Light's wrist, the one that was holding the rock. Light turned around to face his father, confusion painted on his small innocent face.

"Is that not justice, Daddy?"

"Killing the rabbit for eating some carrots? Would you kill a human for breaking into a house?"

"Did it hurt anybody like the bunny is hurting Mommy right now?"

"Oh sweety, the bunny isn't hurting me…" Light's mother was shaken too, looking at Soichiro in a way that said, _Do something, now_! But he didn't know what to _do_. He was scared, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was that defiant look in Light's eyes, the strict way he thought he knew what was right. But…killing a rabbit for eating the carrots? That wasn't justice, not really…

"A criminal is a criminal, Daddy," Light said, dropping the stone and sitting back down in the sandbox. "If someone does something bad, they should be punished. That's justice, right?"

"Yes, but…" Soichiro had nothing to say to this. Light was now playing in the sandbox with his new sister, looking as innocent as ever. _The little boy is just trying to please you, _a voice in his head said. So Soichiro only smiled and patted his son's head. "Yes, son, that is justice."

* * *

"So you're L."

Soichiro was staring at this man who was L. He was eating something, but he paid no attention to that. He noted the way his eyes looked alert and tired at the same time. And that strange way he was sitting….

"Yes, I am L." Soichiro nodded and took up his tea cup, sipping it casually. He wanted to leave now. He wanted to go home to his wife and kids; he was so tired. But Light would probably be doing homework in his room- he was never around now- and his wife was probably asleep already. His daughter, too.

"Kira," L said mindlessly, shifting through some files. "We're going to find this criminal, and we're going to stop him." Soichiro nodded. He was too tired to think right now. He agreed with anything.

* * *

Now Soichiro was looking at Light in a different perspective.

L suspected him of being Kira, but could he really believe this? His son, his only son, being the one man he was hunting down, ready to kill? He _hated _Kira with a burning passion- how could this same man be the son he loved? How could those two personalities coincide in one body?

No, Light was good. He had a good education (the _best_, Soichiro amended) a good heart, a good head on his shoulders. Sure, he'd done some odd things before, but what boy hadn't?

And then Soichiro remembered the nagging thought he had in the back of his head since Light was in kindergarten:

_If Light keeps progressing…_

…_will he _ever _stop?_

But that made no sense. Light just couldn't be Kira. He raised this son. His _wife_, who was full of innocence and love, _birthed _Light. Light came from both of _them_. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that Light could be the killer they were looking for in every crack of darkness. There was just no way.

So why, then, did Soichiro feel uneasy?

* * *

And now L was dead.

Kira had killed L, and he was dead.

He was dead.

And Light was shaken up. Visibly. So why…

_Why did it feel fake_?

* * *

But now there were no more suspicions.

Everything felt right again. Soichiro was reassured that Light, his Light, his only son, was _not _Kira. As Soichiro felt Light's tears fall on his chest, he smiled. Even though he was dying and leaving this world, he was assured with one thing:

_His son was not Kira._

* * *

**If there's two things in this series I hate, it's the death of L and the death of Soichiro. I hate the death of L because, well, the series got a bit worse after it. And I hate the death of Soichiro because he is all, "Oh my son, thank the Heavens you're not Kira." And the thing is Light IS Kira! **

**Stupid Light.**

**So I put in some random things in the story that hinted toward the future Light. See if you can find them?**

**Thanks for reading. :D  
**


	3. Watari

Watari blinked.

Why did he feel so odd? Sitting behind his computer, staring a the screen with the big **L **on it, he felt his world falling to pieces around him. L…oh, L. L was like a son to him; his nephew, L…what was going to happen to him once he died? Once Watari's heart stopped working- stupid, stupid Kira…-what happened to L?

"Watari!" L's voice came through to him on the speaker, but Watari was already on the floor, gasping for air, his heart clenching in his chest. Thump, thump…_thump_. It vibrated through his ears; it pulsed through his body. His last signs of life were precious to him, and he could feel them better than he had felt anything before.

_My son…my…L…._

* * *

Watari sat with his sister, staring at her impregnated stomach, feeling his heart pound.

This wasn't supposed to happen. It sounded kind of impossible, like she was faking. She had one date with this man, one meeting, and already she was pregnant with his child? But the way she put her hand protectively over the large swell made Watari feel a tad bit better. He knew that she wanted him, that she would not abandon her son.

Son. It was a little baby boy.

"Are you sure you want this responsibility, Coleen?" Coleen blinked at Watari, and he suddenly felt like he was under a microscope for inspection. How could she have eyes like that? Eyes that seemed as if they could see through anything at all. Eyes that caught everything; you could not escape from them if your life depended on it. _Especially _not then.

"I can handle it, Watari. As for _you_…well, I want you to be his godfather," she said softly. Her hand rubbed her belly lightly and she closed her eyes. "This is _my _baby, Watari. Even if it was with a man I don't love, don't even know…he's still mine."

Watari could understand this, on some level. He knew what it was like to care for something that wasn't planned because it was, well, yours.

"So will you be his godfather, Watari? My only brother?"

Watari paused a second before answering. He knew that Coleen wasn't in good health- the doctors told their parents when Coleen was a baby that she would not live long. Thirty years, max. A rare condition. These words- _rare condition_, _thirty years, not far past adulthood_, _lucky to have kids_- passed through his mind as he stared at the silverware on the table in front of him, all shiny in the overhead light of the restaurant. He didn't want that responsibility, knowing that he would have to take care of this kid eventually, but he loved Coleen with all of his soul.

"Of course I will," he answered after a while. "Anything for you."

* * *

And now Watari was sitting on his bed, his hands on his knees, waiting to get Coleen's call.

And now he was pacing around his room, listening to the sounds of silence echoing around him, and for a moment he let himself think about how Coleen was going to have her baby right by her side with her, every moment of every day. He was almost jealous. She had someone right there with her, so she would never be lonely. She could sit there and listen to his snores all night long, unlike Watari who had only silence to revel in. And Watari was _jealous_.

Coleen. She was birthing her kid right now, and where was he? The most precious person in the world to him and where was he right now? Sitting in his room, too nervous to get up and go to the hospital, too afraid to walk through the darkness to his car. It wasn't that he was afraid of darkness in itself; it was that the darkness was just another reminder of how he had no lights in his life.

Coleen would have her new baby as her light, but what would Watari have? He had no girlfriend, he had no love. He had no baby to keep him company. All he had was this house that he inherited from his father who recently passed away, this big empty dark spot in his life. And he had no idea what to do with it.

The silence, the darkness, the _loneliness_; he could take none of it anymore.

And that's when the idea popped into his head.

He was alone, and he was jealous of Coleen. He had only darkness and no lights. He had silence but not sound. And there was only one thing he knew that would fix all of those at once.

_Children_.

The idea struck him like an icicle going through his body. Children? He hated kids. He hated the way they were so innocent to the world; the lucky ones were, anyway. The lucky ones didn't know death.

So he laughed it off and threw on his coat. If he couldn't fix the darkness now, he would at least go see Coleen's light.

So he traveled to the hospital and checked in the front desk, asking about his sister. The lady there was short and kind looking; she also looked about thirty or so. She regarded him carefully, noted the bags under his eyes and the tired way he leaned on the desk. She probably even deduced that he was on his own from the way his clothes were all wrinkled. He didn't know how to iron, and he didn't have a wife to do it for him.

Coleen was fine, the lady said now, and she was just relaxing after delivering her baby boy.

So he went up, up, and up through the elevator and followed the maze that was the hospital until he got to Coleen's room. He heard her voice, tired and worn out but excited all in the same, call for him to enter.

So he did. And as he did, he saw Coleen holding her baby.

"Isn't he beautiful?" she asked now. And Watari couldn't believe that he found himself thinking that, yes, this baby in his only sister's arms was the most beautiful think he had ever seen before. "Lawliet," she whispered, running her finger down the baby's stomach. "His name is going to be Lawliet. Though I'm not sure he'd want to be called this, so L will work. My L."

Watari took a step forward. Two steps. With every step, the baby seemed to grow brighter, stronger. Another step and the baby's eyes opened, sleepily gazing at him. Another step and the baby blinked at him. One more step and the baby's hand reached out lazily toward him. Another step and his fist closed.

The baby in Coleen's arms glowed with light.

"_Our _L," Watari said now, and Coleen closed her eyes and grinned.

* * *

It was the grand opening of Wammy's House.

Coleen stood next to him, grinning ear-to-ear as they faced their house. It was both of theirs, really, but Coleen did not want to live here; she wanted L to grow up in a suburb, in a nice good community, and not a house with a bunch of kids. But, nevertheless, she helped with the process of making his dream a reality.

_Ever since I saw that boy, I wanted this house._

Ever since he gazed at L from the cradle of Coleen's arms, he knew he wanted a place where kids like him could belong.

_You're too smart to be a part of this school._

_Nobody likes you here._

_You're too different. _

Watari had hated his childhood.

"It's beautiful, Watari," Coleen's voice came to him now, like a spear through mist. It drew him gratefully away from the troubled memories. "The kids here are going to love it. You're so good for doing this."

He was doing it more for himself than the kids, but he didn't say this to her. She didn't need to know this. Watari was good with her thinking that he was a saint for building this house for children who didn't belong, children who were special. Children who were too smart to belong in a normal school.

"Everyone needs somewhere to belong," he answered her praise, and then rolled up his sleeves and walked back into his new home.

* * *

Coleen was only thirty two.

Two years longer than they expected her to live, fifty million years before Watari was ready for her to leave.

But she had lived this long, right? She'd had scares like this before. She even went into the hospital before, leaving L with a nanny. But it was nothing like this. But if she had already gotten over the expectation the doctors had of her never being able to have kids…maybe she would live longer, too.

She was in the hospital. The same hospital she gave life in was the hospital she was going to die in.

Watari felt like he was leaving, too.

L clung to his leg, shaking. He felt himself shaking, too, but he tried to at least _look _strong for little L's sake. But his façade was breaking, like a mask made out of clay. He was breaking.

Thirty two years.

He had waited, heartbroken, for her death for thirty two years.

And now that it was finally coming, he was not ready.

_Mommy…how is Mommy…she's going to be okay, right…?_

L's voice was tired and drowsy, but he could hear the utter heartbreak in it. He would never be the same after this. After his mother died, nothing for L or his life would stay normal.

Watari thought about the garden they were creating together, the garden L bragged to him about every time they saw each other, but stopped because the thought was too heart wrenching.

"Watari…where's…Mommy…?" L was gripping too tightly. His leg was starting to lose its blood flow.

"She's getting treated, honey," Watari answered, because L was too smart to be lied to.

Downstairs, kids ran around in the kitchen, eating their breakfast up while the helpers that Watari hired watched over them. Upstairs, Watari sat on his bed with L clinging to his leg. It was much like the day he waited L's birth, but there was no darkness. Only the darkness surrounding his heart.

The phone rang. It broke through L's soundless sobs.

"Hello?" Watari's voice sounded weak, tired. He was scared. He didn't want his sister, his only sister, his best friend since before he could remember, he didn't want her gone. Not now, not ever. He wanted to die first. He was selfish like that.

"Put L on the phone."

It was Coleen's voice, but it wasn't. It was her voice with all the love, the happiness, the everything taken out. It was empty and it sounded like a voice of someone who was about to jump off a bridge. Of someone who knew they were about to die.

Watari handed the phone to L without another word, and watched L's little index finger and thumb grip the top part of the phone and put it up to his ear.

"Mommy?"

The phone was loud enough so Watari could hear what Coleen said to her son next.

"I love you baby," the voice through the phone said. "Mommy loves you so much."

"I love you too Mommy," L said, crying now. "Mommy, don't leave me. Please, don't-"

"Mommy will see you later," she said. "Goodbye, my Lawliet."

The next words came out as a tiny whisper, barely audible. "Goodbye, Mommy."

And then L gave Watari the phone back and stared at the wall in front of him. A long time after that- or it seemed like a long time, but time currently had no meaning for the two of them- Watari pulled L up to his lap, and he sat there like a stone, doing and saying nothing but shaking. And then, after a couple minutes, he started sobbing big waves of hateful and devastating sobs, and Watari hugged him, unknowing of what else to do.

* * *

Watari stared at L as he put on his blue robe that signified he was now a graduate. He couldn't believe that his little L was already done with college, already done with all the schooling he would ever need in his life. He couldn't believe he was doing this well for himself.

Despite everything, L had grown up amazingly well. He was brilliant, good-looking; all the things anyone could ever ask for in a human being. Despite his mother's death at a very young age- Watari could not remember when it was (he ignore the question _Couldn't or wouldn't?_ that popped into his mind)- L was okay now. Despite Watari being a bad role-model, L was fine.

He didn't know where L was headed off to, and he was slightly sad to see him leave. But he was going to live his detective dream, and Watari was proud of him.

Of course, he would be right here in Wammy's House, behind the computer he got just to help L with his cases. He would be just a click away.

"Watari," he heard L's strong and crisp voice say. "Will you help me with my tie?"

L had a peculiar way of doing things. Picking up a phone, for instance; he used his thumb and his index finger just like the night of Coleen's death. And holding a fork; he used the same two fingers then, too. It was like was working on a different circuit than the rest of the world. And Watari almost admired him for that. No. Watari _did _admire him for that.

As Watari moved his fingers over L's tie, fixing it and knotting it perfectly, making sure it was straight, he stared into his eyes. Eyes, bottomless black. Eyes that caught everything. Eyes exactly like Coleen's, it was almost as if she was living through him.

Watari choked back a sob. He couldn't think about her now. Today was L's day.

"Now I put the robe over it. I hate that color."

"I think it looks good on you."

"It looks all right. But someone puked on it."

Watari grimaced. "No they didn't. How could you possibly know that?"

"See the dark stain on the hem? That discoloration is because they washed it, bleached it, etc. so many times because of the puke." L threw the robe over his head. "Ugh. Here it is."

Two eyes roamed over L's figure with the robe draped over it. You could hardly see his slenderness from beneath it, since the robe was drowning him. But he looked handsome and tired all the same.

"You ready for this?"

L took a while to respond, looking at himself up and down before saying anything. Then he sighed and pinched a piece of his robe, pulling it out.

"No. Let's go."

And so Watari walked with L to the car, starting what he thought would be one of the biggest days of L's life.

* * *

And now Watari was watching the news.

_Kira. Kira. Kira. _The news was riddled with this person who was killing criminals like flies. And then Watari got a call from L, who was going to take the case- the biggest case ever, he said. He was going to enjoy this.

Was Watari mistaken when he thought he heard the tremor of fright in L's voice?

And was he mistaken when he felt like this was a horrible idea?

* * *

And now Watari was emailing the person he left charge of Wammy's House while he was away, locking this room he put himself in shortly after L took up the Kira case. He was doing all he could for his nephew. He was doing all he could for his son.

_You shall be alerted if anything bad is to happen to either Lawliet or me. If this occurs, you must tell Near and Mello, and they shall react at once. If we do not solve this case but demise first, Near and Mello have to take over. Tell them lightly and go easy on them; no matter how smart they are, they're still just kids._

Watari tried his best to keep the email short, simple, and formal. But he couldn't help the note of care that crept into the last sentence. He loved Near and Mello (two kids that L named himself, and Watari let him because he knew L was reminded of himself through these two boys: orphaned and alone). He wanted the best for them.

He just hoped he wasn't doing something wrong in making them take their place.

* * *

Watari wished he could see L one more time.

But he knew he couldn't. All he had was L's voice coming through to him ("Watari!") and the mental picture of L clutching to his leg when he was just a boy. This picture came to him as clear as if he was seeing it in front of him. _After. _That's what he thought of. After he knew his mother was gone. _Before _would be watching him playing with the other kids in Wammy's House, challenging their intellect. Smiling. Jumping around and clinging to his mother when he did something she was proud of. Watching her beam at him, pat his head. This was all before.

And now…what was this?

What label went with Watari, curled up in a ball on the floor, his chair knocked over next to him, his glasses on the floor next to his head, cracked, his eyes closed and his hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt that rested over his heart? The sounds of moans echoing around him, the darkness closing in, his heart pounding once more, twice more, in his useless chest?

This, well, this must be _Death_.

Watari let his body slump on the ground, his breathing turning even before eventually stopping all together. He could almost be sleeping for how peaceful he looked.

With all the strength and courage he could muster up, with his final thought and his final breath, he whispered, "I'll see you soon, Coleen."

* * *

**WHO HAD THE MOST FUN MAKING ****THIS ****CHAPTER!?**

**I DID!!**

**Well, it was fun. Watari…well, Watari had basically no back story what-so-ever, so I got wide birth in fan fiction. It was great. And I know that, even though this story is about Watari, it's centered more around L. I wanted to explore their relationship together. At first, Watari didn't want L because he didn't like children, then he sees L and realizes he does want them. L is his whole reason for Wammy's House being created. My reason, anyways. I'm not sure of the real reason.**

**I wish I knew more about Watari so this chapter could have been better, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. :D**


	4. Mello

**I know, I realized I kind of left this fanfiction dropping out into space, but I finally opened up a blank Word document and told myself to write! And the result was what I think is the best chapter in this fanfiction! **

**I worked on it forever tonight, so be happy with it! xD**

**Also, I'll be busy debating whether to keep going with more deaths (like I know there are a FEW more, maybe I can even do Rem's death, THAT would be fun) or to end with now with Light's death. I'm going to force myself to make that one TEH BEST EVER. **

**So tell me what you think, and have fun reading this chapter! It's my favorite. :)**

**I love you Matt and Mello! (And Near...I love you very much, too)**

--

Mello closed his eyes.

He was going to die. As he drove on, he knew it in his bones. The girl was in his truck and everything was moving smoothly, it seemed as if it would work out, but Mello knew it would not. Mello felt it under his skin that he was going to die tonight. Maybe now, maybe in five minutes; the time meant nothing. The only feeling he had was Death running His finger slowly up his skin, making Mello shudder…

And then Mello heard that Matt was dead. Matt, his only friend…his friend since…no, not Matt, anyone but his Matt…. And he apologized out loud to Matt but it didn't help…he had killed Matt. No matter what anyone said, it was his fault, Mello's.

Maybe Mello deserved to die.

--

Mihael was eight.

Running around the streets of nowhere, grinning and giggling as he ate his bread that the priest had given him. "Now don't eat it too fast," the priest had advised, "or you'll give yourself a big ole tummy ache."

Mihael hadn't cared much about getting sick. He got sick all the time. Puking, sneezing; stuff like that didn't matter to him anymore. So he chewed the bread quickly, swallowed it, and ran around the cobblestone streets, laughing at the top of his lungs like the little boy he was. He enjoyed being a little boy. He never wanted to grow up. Growing up meant getting more responsibilities. He wasn't ready for responsibilities.

Mihael didn't even know if he could spell 'responsible.'

Mihael felt his stomach tighten up. He needed to go to the bathroom, but he didn't see one around here. He could go in a shop, maybe. Maybe while he was in the shop he could steal some more food. That would be good. Mihael was hungry, and the priest had said growing boys needed food…

So Mihael hopped inside a shop and put his hands in his pockets, looking innocent. The cashier didn't even bother to look up. Even if the kid did steal something, it probably wouldn't be important. A sucker, maybe, or some stupid meaningless candy like that. The shop's candy was all old anyways.

Mihael walked down the isle, looking at stuff as if he was going to purchase it, and went in the back to where the bathrooms were. He did his business quickly, feeling a little better, but a lot hungrier.

Whistling, Mihael zipped his pants back up and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was dirty and his face was smudged with mud, but he thought it made him look more boyish. His mom always scolded him on how his features were too girlish and how he needed to look more like a little boy. But Mihael liked the way he looked. Just not when other boys chuckled at him and called him "Miss Mihael Mack." But then Mihael just retorted by sticking his middle finger up at the kids and grimacing. He liked to think of himself as a badass, even at eight years old.

Mihael walked back out to the shop and looked around the candy section, just like the cashier thought he would. The cashier eyed him lazily, looked back down as Mihael looked up at him, and watched the boy look down again from the corner of his glazed eye. He flipped through his magazine. Kids, the cashier snorted in his mind, do they really think we're this stupid?

And yes, of course they did. The cashier watched the boy with the ripped clothing on and the dirty mud-caked face slip a chocolate bar in his pocket, all while glancing around the shop still. Maybe I should ask him if he wants advice, the cashier mused. I could teach him a few tricks on shoplifting.

Mihael stepped back from the wall of glorious candy and looked at it as if debating what he wanted. Then he turned, glancing at the cashier and biting his lip. He forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, not saying a word, heart beating fast.

As the scared little boy pushed the shop door open, the cashier chuckled, "Enjoy that chocolate bar."

Mihael ran from the shop, one hand in his pocket, protecting the candy bar with his life.

He never went into that shop again.

--

Where was his mom?

It was eight in the afternoon, and the sun streamed lazily inside the house, giving off a drowsy, calm feeling. Mihael probably could let this feeling soak in his bones and take a nap, but needed to find his mother first. He had no idea where she went.

When Mihael was a little boy, he didn't to grow up. He wanted to beg his mother for money so he could buy some more chocolate- his tongue had grown accustomed to the taste ever since he stole the chocolate, even though he had never again in his life tasted a chocolate so sweet- all the time, and not worry about the fact that his mother had no money to give. But as Mihael grew up and saw they really had no money, they really had no anything, he stopped asking her for money. As much.

"Mom?"

Mihael was eleven, and he was searching his home for his mother. He had grown his blonde hair out because he did not trust his mother to cut it, and they had no money to get it cut professionally. The hair sometimes bugged him and it stuck to his neck when he got sweaty, but he liked the look.

Although, it did make boys call him a girl more often.

Mihael grimaced as he remembered Lillie Vignt joke about how she thought he was one of her girlfriends from the back of his head._ Linda doesn't even have the same hair color as me. Same length, maybe, but she has a more blonde color…_

Mihael shook his head. People could be cruel. That was life.

"Mom!"

His shouts became more urgent. Where was she? She was always here when he got home after school. Something about the situation started to make him nervous, and because he felt like he was nervous, he got even more nervous…and soon he was calling out "MOTHER!" over and over again, to no end, his voice becoming raw in his throat, the veins on his neck popping out…

But she never replied.

His mother wasn't home.

When Mihael ran to her room, still screaming her name out, he saw that her closet was completely empty, her dresser bare. The only thing that remained was a simple necklace with a cross at the end, sitting on her pillow, looking like a piece of gold in the middle of a desert.

Mihael picked it up, pressed it to his chest, and sobbed with all his might.

He was alone.

--

It was why he was so cold.

At twelve, still unknowing of what was happening in his life, he was shipped off to Wammy's House.

Mihael barely knew what Wammy's House was, only that the cops were forcing him to move there. He had made it five months in his house without his mother, until one of his stupid teachers noticed that his lunch consisted of chocolate, everyday, just chocolate, and she knew something had to be up. She followed him home from school one day, noticed there was no adult there, and enquired about it. It was then that Mihael broke down and sobbed into her blouse, telling her all that had happened since his mother left him.

The next day Mihael was taken from school to tell the police what had happened. They asked Mihael if he wanted to track down his mother, since they could do that, and they could also put her away for leaving her child. But the thought of seeing her again made him shudder, so he shook his head. He didn't want to see her. He didn't even want to know if she was alive.

Now he was hugging the teacher that found him out. He didn't know whether to have angry feelings toward her or thank her, because he wasn't sure what he should be feeling right now. Should he be angry that the life he was living- the life he hated- was going to change? Or should he be glad that he could finally have a better one?

"'Bye Mihael." The teacher kissed his head, and suddenly Mihael felt his face heat up. The teacher hugged him again and held him out at arms length. "You be a good boy, okay? I heard the man who runs Wammy's House is a real nice man…"

"What's a good boy act like?"

The teacher smiled lightly, running her fingers through his dirty hair. "Just follow the orders you're given and be nice to your roommates. That's what a good boy does. Oh, and a good boy also stays in touch with his teacher. You can do that, can't you?"

Mihael nodded, but in the back of his head he figured that he probably wouldn't stay in touch with her. He didn't want to make bonds with anyone, really. The last person he had loved was his mother, and look what good that did him. So he didn't want to ever love this teacher who seemed like a good person. It would just be easier that way.

"See you around," the little boy, scared and small, said to his teacher as he turned and walked on the train. She blew a kiss to him and clutched at her stomach, remembering the baby she had lost and thinking that he would have been a lot like that one.

--

What was that little boy doing?

Rage flipped in Mello's stomach. _THAT WAS HIS FREAKING CHOCOLATE BAR_! Who did this boy think he was? Honestly?

"Near, that boy is stealing my chocolate."

Near, the boy with the white hair and the glazed over eyes, who seemed to really love L and want to be exactly like him (to the point that he even sat like him) turned to Mello with an exasperated look on his face. He seemed so much older than he really was, which was probably the reason Mello picked on him so much. But L had picked the two of them to be his successors, so Mello figured they had to stick together somehow. Near was really the only friend he had in this house. And besides L, Mello was the only friend Near had, too.

"Mello, that boy just has some chocolate. You don't know if it's 'yours' or not," Near said in his cool, reasonable voice. It made Mello grimace and press his hands into fists.

"I'm twelve freaking years old, Near. I'm old enough to know when someone's_ taking something that_'s mine!"

He had lived in Wammy's house for more than five months now, and the place was finally staring to feel like home. The people here- Watari, whom he met quite frequently, who was also still morning the loss of his sister- were nice and gave him chocolate so much he was going to get lots of cavities if he wasn't careful. He liked it here just fine. It was better than 'home.'

Mello marched over to the red headed boy and growled. The boy looked innocently back up at him, the chocolate bar hanging out of his mouth loosely. There were stains around his lips from it.

"You're eating my chocolate," Mello said now, his voice tight.

The boy only blinked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Ginger! _You're eating my chocolate_!" Mello repeated. The cruel name- "Ginger" a word that Mello heard used around the adults as they joked about this red head that worked in the kitchen- didn't affect the other boy in the least. He probably didn't even know what it meant.

"This is my chocolate. The nice ladies gave it to me."

"What's your name?" Near was beside him now. Mello could see the bright white from the corner of his eye. He wanted to growl and tell him to get away, he wanted to grab the chocolate out of this boy's grimy hand and eat it himself, but he could only stare at the boy, who regarded Near coolly. His eyes roamed over both of the boys, giving them the up and the down.

"The name's Matt. And you two?"

"I'm Near."

"Mello."

"Is that the name they gave you?"

"Yeah. My real name is-"

"Don't tell me it. I don't wanna know."

The urgency of his tone made Mello cut off real quick. He shrunk back. His earlier characterization of this boy who was eating his chocolate quickly disappeared. Suddenly he found himself wanting to be friends with him. And he didn't know why.

"Matt's not your real name either?"

"No, but I didn't want to go with something that would be obvious that it wasn't a real name, like Mello."

"L-"

"Yes, I figured that. And I figured that you were proud of it, too. So good for you, really. I'm glad that you're happy with that silly name." Matt took another bite of the chocolate and put it down beside him, pressing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. "What's there to do for fun around this place?"

Mello stared at him, in shock. He had no idea that this boy and him would become best friends.

--

It was nearing Christmas, and Mello was thirteen.

Near ticked him off, really. But he still wanted to get him a good Christmas present. He didn't know what it was about Near that kept him being his friend, since he barely ever talked and when he did he wanted to talk about L, and if he was safe, and he was always worried about him since they barely heard from him now that he took on the Kira case. But nevertheless, Near was always there for him when Matt wasn't, and Mello let him tag along. Matt would stand in the middle of the two of them, his arms outstretched and wrapped around each of their shoulders.

And what to get Matt?

Matt liked video games, but Mello didn't have enough money to get him any of _those_. Maybe he'd tell Watari the game that Matt had wanted and been talking about forever, and maybe he could get it for him. As far as what Mello himself would get Matt…

Mello walked in the store and looked around. This time he had money and he wouldn't be stealing anything. Twenty dollars. Twenty dollars he had collected from sweating and asking Watari for work, if he could trim the shrubs so he could get his friends good Christmas presents…

Coming into Wammy's House, he told himself he would not make attachments. But it seemed as if fate brought the three kids together. The three kids who were all L's successors, who were all destined to bring down Kira if L were to fail or…die. The three of them had to stick together. It was just that simple.

And Mello loved both of them.

Even Near, who had become like a little (annoying, but nevertheless) brother to him. Even he loved Near. If Near was to suddenly die the next day, Mello would weep and weep. He would weep more for Matt, of course, this was just a fact that his thirteen year old self didn't feel the need to hold back. But he would weep for both of them.

"Hello young man." The lady who worked at the register said, grinning and leaning over to look at him better. Mello couldn't help but thinking about the night he stole the candy bar. The differences were that he was older, smarter, and he was more presentable looking. And he was coming in here for a good reason, for his friends. Not just to steal.

"Do you have any toys?"

"Toys? Of course we do young man. Buying for yourself?"

Mello shook his head. "A Christmas present, for my two friends."

The lady grinned and her face lit up. Mello felt his soul feel a bit lighter. He knew he was doing something nice- this was the first Christmas all three boys were spending together, and he had to make it special- but he felt like he wanted to do this. He wasn't just going to do it to better himself. He wanted to see Matt and Near's face light up as they opened their presents.

"That's a mighty nice cross you have hanging on your neck."

"It was my mom's."

He said no more on the subject. He had been wearing this cross without thought since he found it on his mother's pillowcase the day she left. The day that changed his whole life. At first he thought it was kind of ironic, like his mother was leaving him but giving him God at the same time. But now he thought that the cross was just a reminder from God, telling him that God was making Mello's mom leave so that he could go to Wammy's house and meet Matt and Near. That's why she left, right? So he could start a new life with his amazing friends?

So he could experience what love was like.

"Here's the toy isle. Anything specific in mind?"

Mello found a puzzle with 1,000 pieces in it. He had never seen Near play with a puzzle before, but he thought that would be the type of thing he'd like. Figuring out which piece fit next to which. He held it tight to his chest as he looked around for Matt's present.

And then he saw it. Sitting there, in a simple plastic case, were a pair of brilliant goggles. They were silver, and the lenses were orange. Mello had no idea why he thought Matt would like them, but he figured they would look good on him. So he pointed to them and watched the lady take them down for him, giving him it with a smile. Mello cradled the presents in his arms, grinning.

--

And finally, it was Christmas.

The boy had run down to meet his two friends. Grinning, he accepted Matt's hand and they ran in front of Near, who tailed behind without a word. They both knew that Near was sad that L would not be here this Christmas, but he would just have to suck it up and be happy for the people that were here today.

They all sat around a big tree, with Watari sitting near the circle, grinning. He passed each of them a special present. Mello watched Matt open his first; it was the video game that Mello recommended to Watari. Matt squealed and got up to hug Watari, who chuckled and hugged him back. Then Matt went back to his spot next to Mello, hugging him gently.

"Why are you hugging me?" Mello whispered into his ear, confused but very glad for the hug. He liked when Matt would show him affection.

"You're the reason for this gift, I'm sure." So Matt knew. They both laughed and hugged each other once more, until they broke off.

Near got a "Japanese to English" dictionary, which he seemed to love very much, and Mello opened his present to find a pair of leather gloves. He put them on right away.

Then all the kids handed Watari their presents. Mello didn't have any money to give him a present, so he made him a card, but he seemed to love it all the same. Watari got up and hugged each of the kids separately. Mello felt his soul dance.

Then the boys gave their individual presents to each other. Near gave Matt a pillow that looked like the mushroom from Mario Brothers. He really loved that, and gave Near a tight hug. Near grinned and hugged him back. Then Near gave Mello his present, which was a huge chocolate bear. Mello laughed and thanked Near, who nodded and shrugged at the same time.

Matt grinned and squealed, "Me next!" and handed each of the boys his present. Matt had given him a "Who Done It?" book (which Near solved that day) to which Near was very excited about.

And then the boys turned to Mello as he fingered the wrapping paper. Mello opened his present from Matt very carefully and looked inside. There was nothing but a tiny piece of paper. Mello took it out and read it to himself.

_**I love you.**_

"I'm sorry Mello. I had no money to buy any gifts, even Near's gift was actually something that I had gotten a while ago from my-"

But Mello didn't care. Suddenly he felt himself jumping onto Matt, hugging him to his chest in a wild rollercoaster of emotion. He didn't know what he was feeling (he didn't know it bordered on romantic feelings) but he just knew that this note meant the world to him. Matt said nothing, but only hugged him back. Mello even felt him kiss his cheek.

A little while later (Mello wasn't sure how long they sat hugging each other, but it didn't feel that long) Mello and Matt separated and Mello pocketed the note, hoping he'd never lose it. He wanted it with him when he died.

"My gifts."

Near gave him a hug (which was very unlike him, he didn't like affection of any sort) and said how he was anxious to try it, and that he's never done a puzzle before.

When Matt opened his gift, his eyes widened and he stared at the goggles. Then he slowly, deliberately, turned to Mello and his mouth opened. "How did you know these were the pair I wanted?"

"I…I didn't know." Mello's head spun and he remembered how the goggles just stood out to him, and how he just felt like they were right for Matt. He knew why, now. He didn't understand it, but he knew.

"I love you, Mello." Hearing it aloud made all the difference. Mello shivered and threw his arms around Matt for the third time, not caring that they were hugging more than they had hugged in their lifetime on this one Christmas day.

"I love you too, Matt." And they cried together, for no reason, except for the reason they knew that they would have to part at some time.

--

And now Mello was fourteen.

_Fourteen_.

And L was dead.

Dead, gone, non-existent anymore.

He would not longer breathe this air.

And Watari.

Where was Watari?

Where…where was anyone?

Mello was so angry, he ripped apart his room, screaming at the top of his lungs. Matt tried to calm him down, but nothing would work. Near sat in the corner of the room, Near, who was going to be L's first successor, seeming to mock him with the calm stare. Mello screamed again.

"_I **HATE **YOU, NEAR_!"

He meant it.

"Mello, stop, you don't mean it, Mello-" Matt's reasoning meant nothing.

"_GET AWAY FROM ME_!"

Mello ripped away from Matt, sobbing and running down the stairs. He ripped his cross necklace off and flung it behind him. The note that he had taped to the back of the cross landed on the floor next to where the cross was. Mello didn't see Matt pick it up.

Mello flew through the doors of Wammy's House, screaming at the top of his lungs.

--

Mello sat with the envelope Matt sent him, sobbing again.

It had only been a couple months since he left Wammy's House in such a state. Had it only been a couple months? Mello didn't know. He should get a hold of Near, though, whom he hated, whom he _really_, honestly, _really_ hated, and see if he was making progress on the Kira case.

Mello gritted his teeth. Stupid Near. Stupid Near and his cool, calm stare. And when he learned his precious L was dead! It was like it didn't phase him. He didn't care.

That is why he hated Near.

Tears dripped on the paper as Mello read over the letter Matt sent him. The letter and the necklace, with the note that said "I love you" still taped onto the back, intact. He held it to his heart as he read.

_Mello,_

_I miss you, Mello. So much. It's like half of my heart- or all of it, I can't really tell; once one part of your heart is gone it feels like all of it- _Mello knew how this felt, for he felt it too_ just split off when you left like that. I need you back with me. I need you, Mello. _

_I love you._

_-Matt_

Mello pocketed the paper and wiped his tears away. He was going to find Matt, now. He needed him, too.

Putting on the cross, he took out another chocolate bar and took a bite. He felt like crap.

--

And now Mello was sitting with Matt, and they were discussing their death.

Well, not their _death_. But each of them figured that this was not going to end well. Neither of them voiced this, but each of them felt the cold stir in the air as they talked about how the kidnapping would go down.

Matt was wearing his goggles as he always was and Mello was wearing his cross. The message Mello sent to him all those years ago was in his pocket, too. The wrapper that held the chocolate bear- which Mello had eaten fast, resulting in a stomach ache- that Near had gotten him for Christmas laying next to it. He still didn't like Near, but having that near him made him feel better.

"Are you ready?"

"No." Matt grinned, but the grin was off, uneasy. "Let's do this."

They hugged each other once more and parted. Mello clutched his cross and prayed for strength.

--

Matt.

_I don't deserve to live…no, no, I killed Matt…there's no reason to live anymore, no, not really…never…_

Matt!

Mello turned off the radio and pressed the gas pedal harder. He was going to die now. Whether that lady killed him, Kira killed him, or the paint of the heartbreak itself killed him, he didn't care. Matt was dead. What was there to live for anymore? What was the point?

Images ran through his mind. Matt, standing there, grinning. Matt, holding out his hand. Matt…Matt was his best friend, and now he was gone.

_I love you._

What was love?

His heart beat faster. He wondered how it could still be beating when Matt was dead. Shouldn't it stop too? Shouldn't it…shouldn't it…

And then he felt it. He clutched his hand to his chest, and laughed.

_Yes. Yes. Finally. Stop, oh stupid heart, stop so I can be with Matt…_

Before his heart stopped completely, Mello wrapped his fingers around his cross and dug in his pocket to find the note and the wrapper and held them tight in his fist. The only thing he wanted to be with him when he crossed over, if he couldn't have Matt.

Oh, he'd be seeing Matt. If he didn't, he'd try his best to find him.

_Matt…I…I…oh, Matt…_

His heart gave another jerk. He felt his brain go numb.

_I…love…_

What was love? Love was Matt.

_Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned-_

Where had that come from? The thought entered his mind quickly and was gone just as fast as it came-

_Oh, Matt, please help me, it _hurts-

Did Matt go through this hurt? Did he feel this pain when he-

_Please Matt, please let me know you're okay, I need to know now-_

The car smashed into the building. The car crumbled and building shattered around him; the woman screamed. He heard none of it. Nothing mattered.

_Oh, Matt, please, please Matt, I'm scared, I- _

Love you.

--

**Wow, that was amazing. **

**Thank you for reading it! Review and such if it's not too much of a hassle! **


	5. Misa

It was raining.

How did that old nursery rhyme go? _It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring…_

That made no sense. No old man was snoring.

_He wakes up, bumps his head…_

Too bad. He should have watched his head.

_Early in the morning…_

Mornings meant nothing anymore.

_It's raining, it's pouring… _

Misa looked down below her.

It was a long way down.

Such.

A.

Long.

Drop.

--

Misa was five, and she was just going to her first photography shoot for the first time.

Her mom clapped and pulled her on, telling her how beautiful she was bound to look and how excited she was. "Misa may be famous one day!" she cooed, and all Misa could do was stand there and pretend to look excited. Because she was anything but excited. She wanted to throw up, actually. But she held all of this inside- mainly because she was too afraid to throw up on the cameras and stuff - and stared at the photographer as he yelled out commands like an army drill sergeant to her. Do this, stand like that! Misa, at five, could barely keep up.

Then Misa saw some guy pressed up against the back wall, watching her coolly. He looked like a Big Bad Teenager, the kind Misa's mom warned her that would want her when she became a model. Suddenly Misa felt a funny feeling in her tummy. It wasn't fright, but more…like how Daddy would feel after he won a big spot in his company. Accomplishment, almost.

The Big Bad Teenager smirked at her, and Misa smirked back. The photographer yelled out something that sounded like, "Amazing!" but she could barely hear it. She was staring at the Teenager, who was staring back at her with the same intensity she was.

What a sick, sick world it is.

--

"Mom?"

She wasn't moving.

"Dad?"

He was twitching. But not responding.

The blood. Oh, the _blood_. Misa bent over to puke once more. It mixed with a puddle of blood coming from her mom's head. The burglar had stolen a TV and a microwave and two lives. Misa had been hiding in a closet. Her mom had told her to. And now they're both dead.

"Dad. Wake up. It's Misa. I need you to wake up."

No response. He wasn't even twitching anymore.

"Come on guys, this isn't funny anymore." Her voice was hysteric and she knew that they were dead but she was still saying these things. And why? She knew that they were dead but she was still taking to them? What next, propping them up on a chair and moving their arms with strings? They could still be happy family even after death.

Misa bent over to puke again, but her stomach was empty.

Misa was a baby, and her parents were dead.

--

It was freezing.

Misa Misa- after gazing at her own face on a billboard for quite some time- zipped up her coat and walked through the dark streets. She had a new hat she had just gotten over her pretty hair. For some reason, the hairs on the back of her neck would not relax. They were at full attention. She shivered.

_I'm just being stupid, _she assured herself, looking around the dark streets. And yet…

_I'm freezing. Just keep walking._

As she walked, her heels clicked on the cobblestone road. Thunder boomed from above. Misa pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, but nothing seemed to stop. She was just so cold, _so _cold. Why was it so cold?

Click, clack. She couldn't walk fast enough.

_Click._

It was too cold out tonight.

_Clack._

Why was she so cold?

_Click._

She was just overreacting…

_Clack._

Walk _faster_!

Just as Misa stepped around a corner, thunder boomed clearly over head, and a dark shadow stepped out from behind the wall. Misa's heart stopped and her mind started spinning. She saw the glint coming from the knife in the shadow's hand. She saw how crazy the shadow's face seemed.

And as he walked faster, as he talked to her, as he _confessed his love for the woman he had never talked to before, _Misa felt her death nearing. It was like ten slimy fingers running up her spine, a cold and deathly breath on the back of her neck. Misa's skin crawled.

_Well, this is it. I'm coming to see you, Mother. Bye, world…_

But no. As the man slashed the knife, he suddenly cried out and bent over, moaning in pain. A heart attack. His heart had stopped, and Misa could not believe her luck.

_Oh, _Misa thought, clutching her heart, _never again._

--

Misa was nineteen.

An adult, beautiful, and independent; she had it all. And yet…

"Rem, right?"

The "Shinigami" (as this thing called herself) nodded. She did not look at Misa, nor did she care to give a glance at her. She just stared at nothing as she explained the Rules of the Note to Misa, who accepted it all with wide, innocent eyes.

"So…"

This time the Shingami (Rem) decided to look at her.

"Can I have the eyes?"

"It cuts your life span in half," the Shingami warned. But Misa did not mind. _Blah, blah_, this all said to her. She just wanted what she wanted and she didn't need the facts.

"I don't care. I want to make the eye deal."

Rem seemed to sigh, but as Misa closed her eyes she felt a giddy feeling overcoming her body. When she opened them again, she switched her vision to look at Rem in the new light the Shingami had granted her. Everything was red. Misa grinned, but the grin was twisted and all wrong.

"Now. This is the thing Kira is using to kill all his victims, yes?'

Kira. The word sent shivers down her back. Oh, how she was fascinated by this man whose sense of justice was just so…hardcore.

Rem watched her suspiciously. What was this young girl - who one of her best friends sacrificed himself for- thinking? Did she actually like the human killer? Maybe no one should have saved her life. Maybe she would have been better off…

Rem shook her head.

"This is what Kira is using, yes."

"So I can…help him?"

"Death Notes are meant-" But Rem stopped there. Who was she to tell this girl how to use her own Death Note? Rem had given it to her and now Misa had both the Eyes and the Note. She could do what she wanted with them. But Rem knew the look in this little girl's eyes was not good, it couldn't be good.

"You are in love with this Kira." Rem's voice was raw, and she didn't bother to hide the appall in it. Wouldn't the humans be afraid of Kira? Each of them was guilty in his eyes. They should cower in corners and pray to anyone that would listen for mercy, pray that Kira didn't think they were worthy of being killed. But here was some blonde girl, standing before a Death God with her eyes sparkling, thinking about this man she had never met before. Thinking about how bad she wanted him.

"He punished the person who killed my family, Rem. He punished him and I think that He is the greatest for doing that. He is amazing. I love him, yes. And I will do anything to help him."

Rem stared, slack jawed, at this human.

--

The first time she saw him, it was like the world was set ablaze.

Everything in her body felt like it was on fire the moment Light Yagami walked by her. She noticed first thing that his was the only lifespan she couldn't see. And the way he looked- so innocent, and yet there was something intent about him- it just set her veins on fire.

_It's written like "Moon" but…._

She held back a squeal. Oh, how badly she wanted him now! It was like being a kid again and seeing some cute stuffed animal in the store. "Oh, Mommy, get me this, get me that!" And now she wanted a _human,_ she wanted this _Light Yagami_, she wanted…

She pressed her nails into her palms and held off a moan. She would have him.

She would make sure.

--

Misa was so confused.

_What am I doing in here? I'm not supposed to be in here! Why am I locked up, why am I-_

"LIGHT!"

_Light, oh please, oh Light, I love you Light, I need you, get me OUT- _

"LIGHT, WHAT AM I DOING IN HERE?!"

She was so confused. The air smelled like tension and Death. Oh, Death. It was like that one time when the guy was about to kill her and he died and oh how _scared she was,_ and the night that she saw her parents die by the hand of a man, and Light, how afraid she is right now and how does she get out of here and why can't she feel anything anymore and where-

Where is Light?

"Are you the second Kira?"

Kira? Her? How? That was impossible, that was-

"GET ME OUT OF HERE," she moaned. "I'm not the second Kira, I'm not the second anything. I'm Misa. I'm a famous model and I _need _to get out, oh it hurts so bad it hurts LIGHT!"

But he wouldn't come. Light was nowhere.

_Why can't I feel my wrist or my heart and oh light where are you why aren't you here with me why can't you see how badly I'm hurting right now and ride up on your horse like I thought you would and save me from this awful torture light it HURTS._

"Do you know who Kira is?"

Oh, how stupid that voice sounded! So calm when she was hurting so bad! Even though she admitted a hundred times that she had no idea who Kira was or who the second Kira was and no, neither Light nor she had anything to do with either, even after all of that the stupid voice still asked her questions.

Misa bowed her head. Her blonde hair (now extremely dirty and greasy from the sweat covering her body) fell in front of her face, hiding her flushed cheeks. "Kill me," she whispered. "Just do it now."

--

When the memories came back to her, she felt like she was being flooded.

Light gave her a hug, but the hug felt odd. Misa felt odd. What was happening?

Did Light not love her anymore?

That was silly. Light would always and forever love her.

--

And five years later Light told her they had to be gone again. And Misa told herself that it was because he cared about her

_Light cares, he always cares_

But even she didn't believe that very much. Her mind said that he loved her but her heart said he was using her. Luckily, she knew how to shut her heart off.

_Light will always care._

And now, where was Light?

He was never around. Always hunting for Kira. Always out. She'd heard rumors about him being with some other woman (the Kira spokeswoman, of _all _people) but she refused to believe it. He was just working a lot. That was it.

She hung out with her body guard and played cards. All day. She made dinner, she pranced around. And when Light did come home, she begged him for sex but he refused; Misa convinced herself he was waiting for marriage. She wanted to marry him so they could have sex, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon.

--

Misa was 25, and she was genuinely scared.

_Light._

Some pain hit her heart.

_Where are you?_

She wasn't sure. There wasn't any way she could be sure, she didn't-

Another pain. Something stabbing her soul.

She cried out. She threw her glass.

"Light!"

Her voice echoed in the empty room. No one was sitting on the sofa next to her, softly caressing her hand and telling her that he was just busy with work and he would get back to her soon, very soon. There was no one.

No one.

Light?

No, no light. Only darkness.

And pain.

_Mom? _This isn't funny anymore.

--

Misa was 26.

Matsuda had called her.

It had been Matsuda that told her Light was dead. Kira was gone. Misa didn't believe him at first but something in her soul made her believe it was true. Matsuda sounded pained. His voice was raw; he had been crying.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Misa-"

_Don't say it, don't say it; _

But Misa knew-

"-Light is dead. He was also Kira. He lied to all of us for so many years. He killed thousands. His father-"

Misa hung up the phone and stared at the wall. She wanted to hear nothing. She wanted to see nothing. She wanted to feel nothing. Nothing, nothing. She only wanted to see and hear and feel Light coming through the door right now, sighing and throwing his coat down.

Light?

You're dead.

--

The building was very high up.

As her own death rushed in front of her eyes, she remembered the other deaths she had experienced in her life. _Mom, Dad, the man, Light. Dad, Mom, Light, the man. Light, the man, Dad, Mom. Mom Dad Mom Dad Light the man Light Mom Dad._

The cars rushed by under her feet.

Dad. Your blood still stains my fingers.

Mom. Your face wasn't calm like when we went to the spa.

The man. You wanted me dead, but you died instead. Irony.

Light.

Light, I…

_I told you I'd do anything for you, and that's what I intend to do._

Your name is spelled like Moon, but it's read Light.

Misa spread her arms like they were wings and jumped off the building, gracefully flying to her death.

_To Light._

_--_

**I don't really like it, to be honest. If this seems rushed, then good. I wanted it to seem rushed because Misa killed herself, so she barely has time to reflect. Her death was quick and passionate. There are some parts of it I like and some parts that aren't very good. I like Mello's a lot better. XD**

**(Just another note, there are a couple really horrible run-on sentences, and I just want you readers to know that those are very intentional. Please don't review and say that I have bad grammar. :P) **

**Thanks for reading! **


	6. Light, Part I

**Part one of Light's fantastic amazing part. I hope you enjoy it!**

**----------**

The colors in the ceiling danced above him, mocked him.

Maybe if his lungs could work, he would laugh. But his lungs didn't seem to be able to work, nor was his heart working properly either. Each beat was as cut off as the next, each thump a painful stabbing in his useless chest. He wanted it all to end but he didn't know how to make it end quicker. So he just sat there and let the blood spill out of his body at a slow, agonizing pace…let his heart slowly come to a stop and his lungs collapse in his ribcage. He could take this…he could…

Another painful thump, then five seconds, another. He wondered how long he could take the pain. Not very long, he imagined.

At least he would leave nothing behind. Nothing of importance, anyhow.

----------

The first memory Light Yagami ever had took place when he was four.

He was sitting in a sled and his father was pulling him by a rope. Light remembered yelling and screaming with joy, and oh, how the memory always made him feel nostalgic for childhood again. The feeling of being free, feeling the snow lightly drift into his face and the bright sun shining down on his back- that was peace. Even though it was thirty degrees outside, the sun made it feel fifty. It was a perfect day for sledding. For being a kid.

His father was laughing at Light's insane laughter as he ran up the hill with Light trailing behind on his makeshift sled. They had made it - Light and his father - just that morning, laughing and gluing together cardboard parts and writing "Light's Rocket" on the bottom. Light thought that was the coolest title for a sled ever. Light's Rocket. Light decorated it with a bunch of stickers he had collected from his preschool and a bunch of glitter his mother had borrowed from the lady next door. It glittered exceptionally well in the light of the sun. Light couldn't imagine any other day as perfect as this one.

Once at the top of the hill, Light's father went behind him and kneeled down. He kissed his son's head once before asking, his breath coming out in a white cloud, "Are you ready, son?"

Light wasn't sure whether to shake his head or nod, because the hill below him looked both exciting and scary at the same time. Light was only about three feet six inches at the time, and the hill had to be at least three times his height. To a meek little kid, nine feet is a bunch. Nine feet is like the shadows in the closet.

"Y-yes," Light finally said, because he wanted to seem old in front of his father. He braced himself when his father tensed up and placed his hands on the back of the sled, moving his legs to get ready to push Light's sled down the hill. Light's breathing became funny. It was the very first time he had felt genuine fright

"One," his father began, tensing up to push, "two……….THREE!"

And before Light could shout stop, or that he was scared, or he wanted his father to go with him, he was flying down the hill, and instead of screams rupturing from his throat, it was giggles. He was having fun. Light's hair- long even when he was a little boy; he never cut it short- flew back behind his head and his face was constantly being whipped with cold wind. And he was _enjoying _it! It was the most fun thing he had ever experienced!

Once he got to the bottom of the hill, he could feel his father call down to him and make sure he was okay. After replying, the weirdest thought came to his mind: _A moment of fear is worth any enjoyment._

Light was grinning. The sun bounced off his white teeth.

----------------------

"Mom?"

Light was writing his graduation speech. He was top of his kindergarten class, and everyone in the school was more hyped up about it than he, himself, was. He was more excited about being able to get in the front of the room and talking to the parents. He loved controlling a room.

"Yes, Light dear?" His mother came around the corner, holding a basket full of clothes on her hip. She was a good mother, Light thought absently. He had no idea why he used the past tense, nor did he recognize he did. He was focusing on the words he had written in his big boy handwriting, which was elegant for even a kindergartner, and not on what he was thinking about.

"What's another word for 'moving forward'?"

"Progressing." Light's mother smiled at him, and started walking forward again. "Using that word and you'll have your audience captured."

Light went back to his room and used the word many, many times.

As he wrote the rest of his speech, he thought about what he had heard his father talking about with his mother, about them moving to Japan because they had the best accelerated schooling there. _Light is accelerating too fast, dear; we have to take him out of America and move him to a place where they can help him instead of hurt._

Light supposed, in a way, his father was right. The kindergarten class he was in made him feel like a newborn baby. _How to write your name; how to sing the ABCs; how to color in the lines. _All the things one learned in kindergarten, Light could do with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back. That made him a little worried, but at the same time he felt special; all the other kids were just learning, struggling, but Light, he was doing it effortlessly. It made him feel like…like he was superior. And he liked that feeling.

But _Japan_? In an accelerated school? There he wouldn't feel superior. What if he had the lowest IQ in the class? What if he was the one struggling to learn something while the other kids laughed and mocked him, calling him things like, "Slow Boy" and "Dumb Pants"? He couldn't handle that. He'd rather be bored in regular classes than be called Slow Boy.

But he noticed a visible air of excitement around his father, and he couldn't bring himself to tell him that he really didn't want to leave America. Even though the fear of being called "Slow Boy" was crawling on his spine, he couldn't even mention the new moving situation. He just couldn't do it.

_Maybe it won't be so bad, _Light thought. _Maybe I'll like it in Japan._

---------------------------

Light was ten, and he was experiencing his first crush.

Living in Japan was new. Everything was new. The girls- although pretty- had not captured his interest as a young boy developing hormones. But, one day as he tapped his pencil against his desk, bored even in the highly accelerated classes, the door opened and a little mousy girl stepped in (stepped or stumbled, take your pick) and Light's whole world seemed to flip.

Hair done up in a pony, eyes glittering and wide; she was cute and sweet looking at the same time. She glanced over the room and muttered a greeting to the teacher, handing her a note. The teacher said to sit down and the girl replied in almost perfect Japanese, although she was clearly from America. Light was envious of her talents; he was still struggling just a tad bit with the language, although he knew enough to survive, and the teachers spoke English.

The girl who came into the room so randomly went to the second row of desks and sat right down. Of course, she picked the desk next to Light. Light opened his book and pretended to be reading it, for a lack of anything better to do. It was study time, but he had nothing to study.

"Whatchya reading?" the girl asked, her voice high and polite. Light held off turning red and held up the cover for the girl to see. Her face cleared and she nodded her head.

"A History of Japan," she read, raising her eyebrows. "You read about the history of Japan often?"

Light turned red, placing the book back down on the desk and looking away. "I…I moved here from America, so it's…interesting to me."

"I'm from America too. Well, I was born there. My parents taught me English so that's how I learned it. I'm not that great." The girl relaxed in her seat and crossed her arms over her stomach. Then her perfect voice rang out again. "What's your name?"

"Light. Light Yagami."

"Hello Light-kun. My name is Lillie. It's a very American name."

At the use of the honorific, Light's face turned a violent shade of red and his eyes widened to baseball-size. Gradually, he found his voice again, and found himself trying her name out on his tongue. "Lillie. I like that name."

The girl grinned, closing her eyes and resting on her desk. "School is so boring," she sighed. "I hate it…"

But Light now had a reason to love school. Everyday, Lillie sat next to him and they asked each other questions that seemed silly but, in reality, were great tools to get to know each other. Light used his questions slyly; he asked her things that would make him better know what she looked for in a guy. One time Lillie even asked him if he would marry her and Light found his face break out into a shade of red that wasn't even on the color spectrum. He only found himself asking what the meaning behind that question was, and Lillie averted the answer, looking very disappointed.

And then one day something happened.

Lillie came to school, as usual, and sat down beside Light, as usual. But she did not turn to him, grin, and say, "Hello, Light-kun!" as usual. Nor did she turn to him at all.

Eventually, Light tapped her on the shoulder. She didn't turn toward him. She didn't acknowledge the tap. Light found his heart sinking into his stomach, and he felt rather sick. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't ask her why she wasn't talking to him. He was afraid to open his mouth.

Eventually, when it was time for lunch, he took Lillie's hand and pulled her away from the crowd. He watched Lillie's face- surprised and guarded- watch him carefully.

"What?" Her tone was impatient and snappy.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"What, exactly, am I acting like?"

"You're ignoring me and…being cold."

Lillie said nothing, again. As Light blinked at her, he felt his stomach turn into a pit of ice; he felt nothing. As she said nothing, his heart stopped feeling anything, and his stomach, his soul, his everything stopped feeling, too. Light wondered for a second if this is what it felt to have your heart break. Is this what his mommy felt whenever she cried over his father not coming home? Is this what all those stupid girls on those stupid television shows felt when they cried over their exes? Light had no idea, but if it was, he suddenly felt like he could sympathize with the crying women. They had every reason in the world to cry.

"I hate you."

The words were not Lillie's. They belonged to Light. It was not (no, not really) Light who said it, but it was Light's voice, Light's mouth that let the words escape. It was some deeper part of Light that he had not known had been developing. His inhumanity. It was as if another vessel was inside his body and was now controlling his mouth, his heart, and what he was feeling. Because first he felt hurt, and then he felt nothing, and now he was angry. And he never felt so many emotions before in such a short time.

"You don't hate me."

"Oh, I do!"

"No, you don't. You really don't." And there it was _again_! The anger in his stomach had simmered down and now he felt empty again. As if he was pregnant with the hate and had a miscarriage. He felt his face flush back to normal, felt his hands unclench from when he had them in tight fists. Now he was staring at Lillie, who was looking at him with sadness in her eyes.

"I don't. But you hate me," Light finally said, bowing his head and feeling tears produce in his eyes. Now he was crying? Why was he feeling so many things in so short a time? Should he be worried? Should he go to nurse?

_Oh, Lordy Lord, this must be heartbreak._

"I don't hate you, Light, I just…" She broke off there, looking away at all the kids passing by the couple and going to the lunchroom. They were all carrying some sort of food. Light felt his stomach growl and he knew that Lillie must be hungry, too, but he didn't want to let her go yet. Not just yet.

"Just what, Lillie? What?!"

"My friends told me you're a bad person, Light Yagami." Before answering, Light let these words drift around him, let his stomach fade back into the nothingness he felt now. _Bad person_. Like the criminals his daddy caught? Light wasn't bad, not like them. Light was good. Light was going to grow up to catch those criminals that made Daddy's work so hard. Light wasn't like them one bit, he was good. Or at least, he thought, but…

"You cheat on your tests, I heard. That's why you're the top of the class. You couldn't make it otherwise, they say. They say-"

"Screw your friends," Light said, grimacing at Lillie. "_You_ know me better than any of your stupid friends ever could. Do you think I could cheat on tests? Have you ever _seen _me cheat on tests?"

Lillie's face became unsure. She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, holding her backpack up with both her hands. Her eyes kept moving to and from the busy students, longing to leave Light and join them. _Probably join her friends, the no good icky gross STUPID friends of hers that say I cheat on my tests. She probably wants to tell them all about the meeting she had with LIGHT YAGAMI, TEST CHEATER._

"I've got to go, Light."

"No, you don't, you really-"

"I really do. I'll see you around, okay?"

"I really like you, Lillie!"

_I really like you and I really like everything about you even now if you wanted to me my friend again I WOULD and I wish you would ask me this but look, you're walking away now and there's nothing I can say to stop you. You don't want to be stopped. You won't see me around because you don't like me and you never will like me again but…I really like you, still, even if all the rest of that is true._

Lillie smiled sadly, touching Light's shoulder for one instance, then turning around. "I really liked you too, Light Yagami."

"No," Light whispered. Somehow, Lillie heard. "You hate me."

Then she was walking away, but somehow she still called over her shoulder, "I don't hate Light. I hate cheaters."

And then she was down the hall, turning the corner. Light felt his heart give one giant thud and then he felt nothing again. Cheaters. Bad men. Bad Light. Bad, cheating, terrible Light.

Light bowed his head and felt raw tears run down his cheek. Saltwater. That meant that seas tasted like tears. How odd was that to think about?

His lips stung with the taste of tears. But he managed to say, even though the burning sensation, "I'm…I'm not a cheater."

And that was the last time Light Yagami ever talked to Lillie.

---------------------------

And now Light was thirteen, and he was going through what most would call 'puberty'.

It was a horrid thing, that monster. It ripped his voice apart so it cracked every time he talked, it made hairs grow in unearthly places. He found himself sweating during gym and other things he would rather not think about. Puberty was what his sister would call a "beach."

It also made girls ten times harder to talk to.

Not that Light was that into girls nowadays, but he was a very handsome boy and girls liked him a lot. His top grades and his long brown hair made every passing girl swoon. But he didn't really care. Girls were like…pencils. Some needed to be sharpened, some were too sharpened, and some broke easily. Some didn't even have an eraser. And he could always use one and toss it away for another one if he preferred.

Light was good at analogies.

One day, Light stayed after school to work on an art project, which made Lisa Yang (a girl who was quite obviously crushing on the boy) stay after, also. They sat in the room, darkness closed around them, with music playing in the background. Light was both uncomfortable and amused; Lisa was trying far too hard. Light didn't want her. She was one of those girls who were too sharp, too…pointy. She needed to be dulled or broken completely.

"Lisa?"

At the sound of her name, Lisa's head shot up and she grinned at Light expectantly. _What does she expect me to say? 'I love you, Lisa'? Ha, she's such a girl…_

"Could you grab me a paintbrush?"

If Lisa was disappointed one bit, she didn't let it show. Which made Light wonder if she didn't care _what _he said, as long as he said _something _to her. Light thought about this, still amused. _Maybe if I say her name over and over again she'll faint._

He felt like some famous rock star that all the girls swooned over.

Lisa came back to hand Light the paintbrush, still grinning. He thought about telling her that if she kept grinning like that, her face could get permanently stuck. But he didn't. He only smiled and muttered a thanks. She nodded (now she was visibly dissatisfied) and walked back to her seat. They were working on paintings. Lisa went back to mix colors together and when she came back, Light saw they were dark, icky colors. He smiled to himself. So now she was depressed.

She had been dulled a little.

"Lisa?"

When she looked up again, she wasn't _as _excited, but she did have a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Light wanted to crush that hope (_would you be the same after or would you be different?_) but another part of him did _want _Lisa to like him. No part of him liked Lisa back, though.

"What?"

"Why do you like me?"

Surprise etched out on her face. She opened her mouth and closed it again. Light knew she was going to ask who told him, but then she figure it out. He could almost see the wheels in her brain working. Light went to a smart school, so everyone around him was a genius. Even Lisa could figure out the square root of any number without a calculator.

"It's that obvious, huh?"

"Well…yeah." "Duh."

Light laughed. "Duh."

"Why do I like you? Hmm. Let me see." Lisa walked over to Light and sat across from him at the table, resting her head on her chin and squinting her eyes at him, examining him as if he was a piece of art. He sat there, blinking. Should he say something?

"Your hair is amazing. So brown and just…brilliant. Your eyes and a perfect color. You speak fluidly and you never stutter. I'm envious of your grades and the way everything comes to easy to you. And you're _gorgeous_."

Despite himself, Light felt his cheeks redden. He was gorgeous…?

"I like you a lot."

_I liked you too._

Lillie?

_I__ hate cheaters._

"I'm not a cheater!" When Lisa's face became confused, Light realized he had said that out loud. Suddenly, Light got up and collected his things, maneuvering around the room, not saying another word. He barely heard Lisa call after him. Tears were running down his face again.

_I HATE YOU, LILLIE. I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I-_

_Shouldn't care anymore I really don't care I promise_

_I care._

"Yagami? Are you crying?" Light walked on, not turning toward the person asking him if he was okay, not acknowledging anything. He kept walking. Tears stung his lips again.

_When's the last time I cried? The last time I_

Talked to her.

Light flew out of the school, sobbing.

He hated girls.

--------------------

"Dad?"

No one answered. Was the voice outside not his father's? As soon as Light spoke up, the voice shut up. The shadows shifted. Bushes made noises. Light's skin broke out in cold goosebumps.

Light was fifteen, and someone was breaking in.

"Mom?" he called upstairs. But no sound replied to him. She was probably very tired. He was the only one up.

_And Dad is at work. Of course he is. _

Light walked over to the umbrella holder and picked one up. He held it high above his head as the doorknob jiggled uncontrollably. He had to protect his mother. He was the only man in the house, he had to…

The door opened and a shadow stepped in. Light's heart stopped but his natural survival instinct kept him on top of the game. He stabbed the umbrella (pointy tip first) into the guy. Light felt pleasured as the guy gave a loud moan, stepping back out of the door. When in the proper light, he could see what the intruder looked like.

It was his father.

"DAD!"

The umbrella fell to the snowy ground, making the little specks on the ground turn red. His father was bleeding. Where had Light stabbed him? His father was holding his stomach, so he just have gotten him there. And oh, how he moaned…

Light almost wanted to throw up, but the sudden panicked look on his father's face stopped him in his tracks.

"Call…ambulance…"

He fell over, into the cold pure snow, shaking.

"FATHER!"

"I'm calling someone right now." His mother's voice was unearthly calm from behind him. Light heard the buttons. "Don't worry, I understand what happened."

"M-mom, I-I k-k-k… s-s-t-a-"

"Shh. Quiet now."

Light sobbed, kneeling down by his father and doing the best he could to tend to him. His father was pale; his eyes were closed. Light felt terrible, but at the same time, he _had _done what he was supposed to. He felt a little proud on top of his terrified manner…

"L-Light…"

His father was moaning words Light couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

_I did it though I really actually managed to do it if that was a real robber-_

"It's okay, Light. You didn't know."

You didn't know.

_I did it._

_-------------------------------------------_

_It was called a Death Note._

The contents of the Death Note were still a mystery. He didn't want to look in it quite yet. Light, being the smart and cunning almost-adult he was, was intelligent about things like this. He would take it home and look at it. Something like this would be bad to wave around in public.

_What are you?_ he wondered to himself.

Light imagined it answering him. _Something that will change your life._


	7. Light, Part II

**And, my fair and faithful readers, the end. **

**Thank you for reading this obnoxious fan fiction, and I hope to see you in the future if I write any more Death Note. :D**

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If there were two deaths in Light's life he would never forget, it was both his father's, and L's.

With L's death, the surprise and shock was so easy to pull off it made Light want to laugh. But he held it off as he held L from hitting the ground (even though it would have pleased Light very much if L hit the ground with a dull thud) and stared into the man's eyes. Light swore that he saw the word "Kira" on his lips. L would die knowing who Kira was, and Light was sure that he knew already. It didn't matter much, anyways. If they were alone together, Light would probably have admitted to L that he was Kira, just to make him suffer even more than death made him. But they were not alone, so he could not say this.

I win.

As Light sobbed with L slowly drifting away in his arms, he was thinking,_ I__ am the champion._ As Light screamed, "YOU CAN'T DIE, L!" he was thinking, _Die, and die very quickly, you stupid genius._ As Light was moaning about how he wanted to kill Kira, he was thinking about how easily Kira killed L.

And with his father's death, Light sobbed. Some of it was real; some of it was remembering the time he stabbed his father with the umbrella, and how the snow never looked pure to him again. He was seeing spots of red on snow patches for months afterward. And some of his sobbing was faked, acting; he had to play the sad little son. Just like he played the sad little friend with L's death. Yeah. It was easy.

But Light wasn't sad. Not really. No, not at all. He just wanted his father to write down Mello's name! If he could just do that… if he could just….

"You're…not Kira."

The words didn't surprise him. He planned this out. When his father got the Eyes he had to make sure he saw with the Eyes exactly what Light wanted him to see; that his lifespan was there. And boom. No one would suspect him. If L was still around, he would have seen through this plan. But L wasn't around, and the rest of the detectives loved him and his father, and they would never question a grieving son.

"Of course I'm not!" Light's voice cracked, and it took all of his willpower not to smile at this little convenience. Wow, he really sounded sad, didn't he?

My father is mortal, as I found out when I stabbed him with the umbrella. He is mortal and I have more control over him. I proved that, too, when I stabbed him. If a little boy was able to stab a dull umbrella tip into a grown man…maybe….

Maybe he should die.

There was no place in the world for weak people. No, not in Light's mind. There were the people who wanted to fight Kira, the ones that wanted to join him, and the ones that didn't know anything so they cowered in the corners. All of those people had to be killed, none of them were the people Light wanted in his new world. And if Light wanted to create a new world, a better world, he would have to get rid of the people that held it back.

He would find a girl, maybe, and after he got rid of everyone else, he would make kids with her and raise them the way he wanted. Yes. This was very God-like of him, no?

Of course, after a while, I'd have to kill of the woman. Women are annoying.

Especially Misa. God, Misa. She pranced around in her underwear hoping to make Light horny enough so they could go in the bedroom but he never wanted her like that, nor did her need her. He could pleasure himself better than she could pleasure him, any day. Misa's mind wasn't used enough to his liking, nor did it have the capacity to be used constantly. Misa was all looks, and she had always gotten off on that just fine, but Light hated her with a passion he could not show. Because, even if he hated it, he needed her. Oh, yes, he needed her very badly.

And after his father died, it wasn't that hard faking sadness. On some level, Light was very sad, because it was, after all, someone that he had grown up with and known all his life. But on another level, one that consumed him and made the other level feel so small that it was virtually not there, he was happy that he got yet another roadblock out of the way. And, as an added bonus, the detectives around him wanted him to be the second L, and lead the taskforce to what they thought was going to be victory. That was something he was not suspecting, and something that made him very happy indeed.

Sometimes, late at night, Light wondered how things would end. It that was not that he was worried, for he had everything under control, and nothing was going out of plan, but he was curious as to how things would turn out. Would he die? No, that was silly, Light couldn't die, Light was God, the most pivotal character in the human race. How could God die? Gods could not die, which meant Light couldn't die. He was sure of it.

He had no idea of how badly his cockiness was blinding him until he met Near, who reminded him instantly of a wannabe L. Even when Light introduced himself as the "Second L" he could hear the jealous, incredulous tone in Near's voice. Light felt a small sense of satisfaction as he heard it. The little boy wishes to be L. He probably knew L, before he died. He was probably even heartbroken over the news that his precious L…

Light felt like he had to laugh. Heartbroken. Over a death! Death was a part of being a human (unless you were a God) and he was sick and tired of humans being freaked out about it. He liked death, when others were experiencing it, others that deserved to experience it. He thought death was as natural as getting four when you plugged in two plus two on your calculator. He had been using death as his tool for years now, carefully manipulating it with his clever brain and fingers. That's what Gods did. They were the ones who decided when someone would die, how, and if they deserved it. Death was on their side.

Everything was going according to plan, and then…

And then that stupid rat boy Near had to go and mess everything up with figuring out something-or-another. And then that other stupid Chocoholic Mello or whatever had to steal a major character in his plan and lead to her death! He was infuriated by this, but Kiyomi wasn't that important to him, personally. She was another women and women bugged him. Plus, it was easier to have her gone so he didn't have to worry about her saying something that would give things away. That was a huge relief off his shoulders.

From Kiyomi's death, everything spiraled down. He thought everything was going to be okay, just like he thought there was an intruder outside his door, and yet it was only his father. He had harmed his father for nothing!…Just like he had harmed L, Mello, that Matt guy, Watari, and all the rest of them, for nothing, as well? Was this all just something that could have been avoided, unnecessary? If he had never picked up that Note…

_Let's think. Where would I be now, if I had never picked up that Note? If I had ignored the obvious sign that the Former God had given me, and walked back to my house, I would have probably studied right after. And then what? Lived my life, of course. Maybe I would have become a detective like my father and sat alongside him, catching criminals that way. But I'll always like my way better. Setting them in a jail cell to rot the rest of their lives may not be the best punishment…death, however, death my way, will always be the best thing for someone who doesn't obey law. That is the ultimate Justice. That is what should be done._

And if that is what should be done, Light should die, too. Of course, Light did not believe this, for he didn't want to die, nor did he think it would be best for the world he was creating. A world without a God would perish. He would not die, as long as he could help it.

_I'm glad I picked up that note. I'm so, so glad._

But Near. Near had figured things out. How? He was, what, eight years old? Five? He couldn't be any older than twelve years old, Light thought, and he had foiled his plan? How in the world could a mere mortal figure out a God's plan? It made no sense, it made Light feel sick, and standing there as Mikami apologized over and over again for how badly he messed up, Light was sure of one thing.

He was not going to die.

So he screamed. He screamed that he was innocent, he was being set up, he was Light, just Light, and everyone trusted Light. But they all just stared blankly back at him. He still had one trick up his sleeve but Near was too quick for him, then, too; they took the piece of Note paper hidden in his watch and Light no longer had anything to keep him from dying. There was nothing there.

_I'm not gonna die! Get a hold of yourself and run!_

And then shots. Shots coming from everywhere. Someone screaming, everything was blurry, and there was so much pain but Light felt and heard and saw none of it. He was concentrated solely on trying to stay alive. He needed to be God, right?! He needed to create this new world and how would it live on without him? Without Light? The world would burst into flames!

And it was Matsuda who was shooting him and oh, how much pain there was but there was nothing Light could do to stop it. So he threw open the doors of the warehouse and starting running as fast as he could with no feeling in his body, and he heard Near telling them to let him go, he would die soon. And the words slowly melted into his skin, and he would have shivered, if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't feel anything.

_I can't…I won't…die…_

But eventually, Light was too tired to move anymore so he laid down on some steps and stared up at the ceiling. He watched the colors mock him. They seemed to be laughing at how stupid he was, how he could let a child beat him, how he thought everything would work out when clearly nothing was going to.

As the blood rushed out of his body, he found himself thinking about his father laying on the cold, snowy ground, and how he too must have felt the blood leaving his body along with his life. It was as if every drop of blood was combined with a part of your soul, and as more blood rushed from the wounds more of your soul left, too. It was the most horrible, vile, excruciating thing that Light had ever felt before. Losing your life slowly on cold, hard steps.

_But you felt this before, haven't you, Light?_

Yes. The moment Light picked up the Death Note, he felt as if his soul had begun to start pouring from his body.

_You always knew this would end badly, didn't you Light?_

No. Yes. No. Some part of him did. The blinded by Justice side did not.

_Do you wish you had never picked up that Death Note, Light?_

He felt the last trickles of his soul stroll casually out of his body. His blood made his clothes soggy, and everything around him was uncomfortable and the pain was excruciating. But he still found himself thinking hard about this question the ceiling asked him. Did he wish this? Would he want to have never experienced the power that came with the Note? Did he take back Kira?

Light laughed in his head, since his lips didn't seem to be able to move, his voice box dead; the sound echoed around his skull. Did he wish this? Take back Kira, get your life back. Was that a fair exchange?

_When I'm gone, what will become of the world?_

The ceiling pressed on. _Do you wish you could take the Note back, Light Yagami?_

Light closed his eyes, his chest stopping. His heart stopped too. His soul was gone, mixed with his blood in a pool around him. The world seemed to have stopped turning in that moment. He heard no traffic, and the ceiling wasn't dancing. Everything was motionless.

_If I could wish for anything in the world…_

_I'd wish for Lillie to kiss me. _

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**The first two people I would like to thank are FFYP-det-Yagami and Solkongen, who are the two people whom are probably the ones that kept me writing this. So thank you very much; you two are amazing!**

**Secondly, I'd like to thank my friend, SwityGirl, who is just an amazing person in general. I couldn't get through the trials I get through without her help (GO READ HER FANFICZ).**

**And I'd like to thank the rest of you readers who read this. I really hope you like it. I realize some of you may not have liked this ending, but I really do, for reasons I can't express. So thank you thank you thank you for reading, times a zillion, and I'd be so happy if you reviewed. :]**


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